


Reminiscent

by morrezela



Category: Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Lovers to Friends, M/M, Reminiscing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-16
Updated: 2014-08-16
Packaged: 2018-02-13 09:03:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2144904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morrezela/pseuds/morrezela
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the Empire is defeated, Lando goes back into the private sector. He reminisces about his love affair with Han as he moves into his new home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reminiscent

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Moontyger](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moontyger/gifts).



> I wrote this based only on movie Lando as I haven’t read any of the extended universe in years.

Lando is happy with his life. Truly he is. Though he is back in the private sector instead of the military one, he still benefits from his time in the Rebellion. People love a war hero, and Cloud City gave him more than enough experience to gain a lucrative contract as administrator of Mictite City - primary trade site for the goods coming from the rock mines of Solgarna IV.

It is not gas mining, but the business processes are close enough even if the engineering differs. Lando is not the gambler that he was back in the day, nor is he the space captain that he was for that short period of time when he wasn’t sure if he was going to live through the night. But the talents he used as a scoundrel and a hero both make him good at his job.

He enjoys it too. He has never been like Han, never had the desire to travel space to each new planet. He enjoys running a city, helping people. Lando is a leader by nature. He has the taste for the kind of risk that comes with it and the kind of rewards that come with a job well done.

Sometimes guilt or questions bubble up in his mind. Even though he knows that his evacuation plans and duplicity enabled many people to survive the Empire’s attack on Cloud City, he wonders what else he might have done. He knows that it is a normal reaction just as much as he knows that he couldn’t have done anything more given the circumstances he faced.

There was a day when Han would’ve made fun of him for his guilt. But that day was years ago when they were different people. Back then they were both self-centered, smug bastards whose main goal in life was to one up each other. Those times had been good, but Lando wouldn’t revisit them for all the sand on Tatooine. 

Still, thinking about his wild youth makes Lando nostalgic. Mictite City isn’t home. It doesn’t have the people that Cloud City did. It doesn’t have the memories.

In his mind’s eye, Lando can still remember the day that he traded manipulating thieves and scalawags for duping generals and politicians. He can remember the hard set of Han’s jaw when he had found out about it. Han didn’t approve. That wasn’t his style. The Han of Lando’s youth was wild and determined to be free.

That rambunctious spirit had translated well into the bedroom. As much as they had fought, they always made up for it between the sheets of the nearest bed. A man wouldn’t know it to look at one of the Rebellion’s greatest heroes, but Han’s fingers were a wonder.

They were as clever on the skin of Lando’s stomach as they were with the trigger of a blaster. They moved so quickly that you didn’t even know that they were there until they were already gone, destruction left in their wake.

Most people think that Han’s mouth must be his biggest asset him bed. Lando has heard more than his fair share of comments from all manner of humanoid species about what they would like to do to that smarmy mouth that Han has. Some of them want to fuck it raw, make Han eat his words. Others are obsessed with the tilt of it. Still others think that he has to be a master of dirty.

None of it is true. Han is quiet in bed. It’s more like he is planning an escape than a confrontation. When his skin is pressed up against his partner’s, when he is mouthing at the head of a cock or the line of a jaw, he is quiet. At least, that is what all of Lando’s memories tell him.

There is the chance that Han’s preferences have changed, but Lando doubts it. Han still loves his ship. He is still best friends with a giant walking carpet, and Han’s taste in lovers is still focused on stubborn people who are too damned good for him.

Lando catches his reflection in the mirror of his new quarters. The smirk on his face grows into a full smile out of habit. Billions of people might think Han Solo is now the one out of Lando’s league, but that wasn’t so back in the day. Still isn’t today as far as Lando is concerned. Han is a scoundrel and always will be. He doesn’t know how to be anything else. That is part of his charm.

Lando lets his smile dim as he turns away from his mirror and starts digging through his belongings. There isn’t much to unpack. Zipping around space hasn’t afforded him much time to replace many of his lost belongings. 

There are a few new things amongst his clothes and utilitarian items though. He has more medals than he ever thought he’d have, but that doesn’t say much about him. He never thought he’d own a medal that he didn’t steal or win off some drunken fool gambling on the pitiful value of his old tokens.

The awards are nice. More than that, they’re something that will make people revere Lando. Their presence on his walls will make people trust him in ways that his actual skill set won’t. For the rest of his life, he will be a hero. It is a sentence that he never once thought he’d be serving.

Every person that he sleeps with now will see him as the man that rescued Leia Organa and Luke Skywalker. They might hear whispers of his duplicity, maybe even catch a word about how he caused their beloved Han Solo to be taken by a bounty hunter. But those tales as well as his shady past will be viewed with a golden glow. He is famous in a way that stretches beyond wealth.

When he was younger, he thought that sort of recognition was something to be envied. He remembers tracing patterns over the pale skin of Han’s stomach as he outlined his plan to become fabulously wealthy. Han had laughed – partially because of Lando’s ludicrous ideas and partly because he was ticklish in certain spots.

There had been a bit of a struggle on the bed, and Lando had ended up underneath Han. If he closes his eyes, he can feel the brush of Han’s half hard cock rubbing against his stomach. His stomach will tighten with want at the memory of soft lips against his own, long fingers pushing up inside of him, both teasing and possessing.

Lando bites his bottom lip and feels is dick swell with the memory. Then he shakes his head and takes a deep breath. Han is his friend, and Han has been his lover. But they’ve long since parted ways on that front. Han has changed from the man he was when they kept coming together at space stations and cities to knock boots and trade orgasms for a few hours.

There is a part of Lando that wonders if they couldn’t have been something more. If Han had gotten over his taste for wandering a bit sooner or if they’d had fewer fights, would Han be claiming the right side of the closet in the bedroom?

The answer to that is, “No.” There are too many events that have to happen to bring them back together, and the galaxy would definitely not be the same. Besides that, Lando prides himself on being friends with his exes. He makes clean breaks. Pining is beneath him.

So when he pulls out the bottle of Alvarian scotch that Han gave him as a going away present, he only feels the warmth of bygone days with it. The taste of it is mixed indelibly with Han’s skin, the smell of their arousal. It was their drink. Some people have songs; they had alcohol.

They weren’t the romantic type, but they were a couple. There were gifts even when they were vying over a contract or a machine. There were dates to casinos or less reputable gambling establishments. There was Alvarian scotch. 

Warm and smooth, it slid down their throats like water. They would kiss and strip to nothing but the sound of their blood buzzing inside their brains. They would rest against each other basking in the afterglow of sex, toasting each other to a job well done.

They had been ridiculous, not built to last. Lando didn’t need to look at Han’s princess to know that. He’d come to that realization years ago. They fit together for visits not for long term stays. Han needed to travel, and Leia wasn’t going to stop moving around on her diplomatic missions in the near or distant future.

More than that, Lando needed somebody who would stay with him while he rebuilt his empire. He needed somebody who understood his desire to leave something solid, something touchable behind him when he died. Han might have known him, but he couldn’t ever be what Lando needed in the long term.

“Or maybe he is,” Lando muses to himself as he opens the bottle and pours himself a drink in the small clay mug that somehow ended up in the same packing crate with his alcohol. 

Lando doesn’t have any pictures or holograms out to toast, so he salutes his medals with his drink instead. “A man needs more friends than he does lovers,” he tells them before tossing back the alcohol.


End file.
